


Maelstrom

by osterac1999



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Canon Compliant, Emotions, Gen, I follow the events to a T so nothing new happens, No Dialogue, it's basically just exploring how jer feels throughout it all, jer's got some mad gigantic feelings in this, squip's pulling its usual shit, takes place during The Play, there isn't an approriate tag for anything tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2019-02-03 07:17:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12743601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/osterac1999/pseuds/osterac1999
Summary: Midsummer’s Nightmare was a maelstrom of emotions. Well, the entirethingwith the SQUIP could be considered a maelstrom. Hell, his whole life, too. Suffice to say, Jeremy was a gigantic whirlpool of conflicting emotions, but he’d have to consider the play the peak of it. The entire thing was a complete blur to him. He got the bare facts from Michael weeks later, but what really stuck with him was how he felt throughout the whole debacle.





	Maelstrom

**Author's Note:**

> Do you ever have an idea for a fic that puts literally everything else on hold?? Yeah that's this one. SORRY JAMIE I'LL WRITE MY THING FOR YOU SOON!!!
> 
> Enjoy this lovely mix of emotions courtesy of jer <3 <3

Midsummer’s Nightmare was a maelstrom of emotions. Well, the entire _thing_ with the SQUIP could be considered a maelstrom. Hell, his whole life, too. Suffice to say, Jeremy was a gigantic whirlpool of conflicting emotions, but he’d have to consider the play the peak of it. The entire thing was a complete blur to him. He got the bare facts from Michael weeks later, but what really stuck with him was how he felt throughout the whole debacle.

 

1\. Naïveté 

 

Singlehandedly saving the school (as the SQUIP put it)? A total power trip.Telling off his dad and walking out like he didn’t give a damn? Power trip. Honestly, the SQUIP itself was a power trip. How could he _not_ feel amazing after all of that?

 

He practically strutted into the auditorium when he arrived. He caught the last few words of Christine’s speech and rushed to intercept her before the play could begin. He felt cool and collected, completely ready to win Christine over with his _own_ speech.

 

Which was stupid, seeing as he isn’t the speech type of guy and he clearly didn’t know her well enough.

 

He thought his plan was perfect. If it wasn’t, why would the SQUIP have let him talk to her at all? He had a complete blind trust in it now and- really- nothing that had happened would change that opinion.

 

 _Not even blocking out Michael?_ A small, nearly forgotten part of himself asked. One that he had been staunchly ignoring for the past few months. Why hadn’t he been ignoring it before?

 

(Maybe because it was the one voice in his head that had common sense.)

 

He was so boldly confident in the SQUIP that not even the doubt that swirled in his gut could slow him down. Like, what was the doubt even there for? It could _predict the future_ \- or, well, look into _possible_ futures. There was no conceivable way he could fuck this night up. 

 

Well.

 

He supposed that the SQUIP couldn’t work through every possibility.

 

2\. Dread

 

The second Christine walked away, beaker in hand, Jeremy’s heart dropped.

 

_Fuck._

 

How would he recover from that?

 

He had turned to the SQUIP, expecting reassurance or even pity. What he got was it looking like the living embodiment of his Halloween costume. It really fit the whole “evil super computer” image Michael had been painting in the bathroom. God, _Michael_. He had been onto something, hadn’t he?

 

Still, he clung to the idea that the SQUIP was looking out for him. Despite the dread weighing him down, he gave it the benefit of the doubt. And that was a terrible choice on his end. Great for the SQUIP, though!

 

He couldn’t deny facts, though. Facts like: the SQUIPs going missing, everyone getting SQUIPped, _Mr. Reyes_ getting SQUIPped, etcetera.

 

His dread slowly turned into fear as the SQUIP monologued about its plans. Plans Jeremy had blindly followed along with. Plans to turn the cast- no, possibly the world into mindless zombies who followed “his” desires. He was so hopelessly _fucked_.

 

He kept trying to think of ways to get rid of it, but it effectively shut down every single one. And, well, its logic was sound. And depressing. It could predict almost anything, of _course_ it figured out he wouldn’t want to follow along with its plans. He felt himself sinking deeper until it prompted him to think about Rich, then his train of thought jumped over to Halloween, which led his mind to where it almost always ended up at when he needed help. 

 

Michael.

 

3\. Hope

 

Jeremy held it in his hand for about four seconds before it dropped to the ground. (Hope was represented by his phone, which surely had a million tiny cracks in its screen now.) He felt it all completely drain away when he was bodily tossed across the stage to land in front of-

 

Michael?

 

He stared at his best friend of twelve years (why had he let an overpriced tic-tac ruin that?) with an expression that was probably pathetic. He probably looked too long at his hair, his face, his eyes- how long had it been since he’d seen him? Two months, at least. He hadn’t realized he could miss someone _this_ much.

 

There was a lot of things he _should’ve_ said first.

 

_I missed you._

 

_I really was a dick, wasn’t I?_

 

_Why did you come back for me?_

 

 _You’re worth so much and I just threw you away like you meant_ nothing _to me. Which, by the way, is the complete opposite of what is_ actually _true._

 

Considering the SQUIP refused to let him even _apologize_ , it was a surprise he even got _anything_ out. He’d had to save those for later. Michael deserved better than a rushed apology from him with no emotional depth.

 

And despite it making Jeremy actually try to punch him, he held out hope because- well, because this was _Michael_. Jeremy had complete faith in him.

 

4\. Fear

 

He clung onto his belief that everything would turn out alright until he watched Jake pour every last one of his hopes and dreams out onto the stage. It seeped into the floor and he felt sick. What the _fuck_ were they supposed to do now?

 

He glanced to where Jake had tossed the bottle and noticed that- miraculously- not everything had spilled out. He glanced to Michael, somehow communicated his desperation (really, it wasn’t hard), and watched him dash over to the one thing that could save them all. Proud was an accurate description of how he was feeling, until it soured back into fear.

 

Catching the bottle while simultaneously watching Michael get pulled down into a pile of zombies was the scariest thing he had ever seen to date. The way fear that flashed in his eyes and how he tried to jerk away from the hands clawing at his hoodie. The only thing that staved off despair was the desperate, but resolute look he shot Jeremy the second before he was completely overtaken.

 

He figured that Michael would be fine, but looking at the SQUIP’s self-satisfied expression, he felt dread curl around his heart. 

 

He couldn’t help the fear that clung to him even as he put the bottle up to his lips, the last few drops of Mountain Dew Red glistening at the bottom. Despite the SQUIP trying to physically restrain him, he knew if he _truly_ wanted to drink it, it couldn’t stop him.

 

But… did he?

 

He was scared to go back to how things were before. He had tasted the life he had always wanted, a life where he wasn’t a complete nobody. The SQUIP’s idea of a world that was specifically tailored to his wants was so, so _tempting_. Would it really be so bad? Was it so bad of him to _want_ something good for himself?

 

He glanced to the heap that held Michael down and shook his head.

 

He had to end this, even if he was scared.

 

5\. _False_ Hope

 

Christine’s radiant smile blew away any thoughts from Jeremy’s mind. He found himself staring at her for a few moments, completely and utterly overwhelmed.

 

The way her hair bounced as she bounded up to him. The way she smiled brightly at him. The way her eyes sparkled at him. When she grabbed his arms and pulled him to her, he wanted so desperately to let everything go. She looked _ecstatic_ at having the audience love her. But was there any doubt?

 

Yes. From him. He found that he couldn’t trust the way she presented herself.

 

The way she bounded up to him seemed preordained, like the way a robot would complete an order fully and completely. The way she smiled was off, her lip curled up in a distinctly not-Christine like manner. It looked more like a smirk than anything, it reminded him of how the SQUIP had grinned when Michael was dragged down. Her eyes didn’t _sparkle_ as much as they gleamed, more a trick of the light (or a SQUIP) to convince him everything was fine. And her grip was _harsh_. Her nails dug into his arm and he winced, jerking back.

 

He had thought the only person besides Michael who was safe was Christine. Who, despite not knowing herself, was wholly ready to figure it out and not take a short-cut like him. At least Christine and Michael had something in common. They were prepared to face the world.

 

Was Jeremy able to do that?

 

6\. Resolve

 

He knew the SQUIP trusted his words. It knew his desires better than himself. It _knew_ how badly he wanted things to be easy. 

 

He took a deep breath. He looked it directly in the eyes and pushed the bottle into Christine’s hands. Its faith in Jeremy’s desires was its own downfall. Wasn’t it funny that a computer _with no emotions_ could fall to something as stupid as pride?

 

He felt the dread and fear fall away as she took the bottle. A hard resolve took their places. This was what he had always been meant to do. Destroy what he had helped create. He had been an active participant in this, and hopefully the Mountain Dew Red could end it all. He had faith in Michael’s own research- and the SQUIP’s own slip-up, of course. 

 

He even felt a bit smug when Christine drank the last of the soda.

 

7\. Nothing

 

Black.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!!!! I hope y'all liked it tbh. I won't apologize for that last one :p
> 
> If you wanna come yell at/with me about shit my tumblr is @cuddlehoe <3 <3


End file.
